


Epiphany

by daniko



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-23
Updated: 2011-07-23
Packaged: 2017-10-22 14:19:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daniko/pseuds/daniko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sirius wondered why he hadn’t tossed Severus out of his home when he was given a clean bill of health. He knew the answer of course: he was as curious as a damned cat and ol’ Snivellus was revealing himself to be quite the riddle. No pun intended.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Epiphany

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carolinelamb](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=carolinelamb).



> Disclaimer: Not mine.
> 
> You asked for 'something post-DH', hun. It was a simple enough prompt, I think. Somehow, it turned into this *points below* I've really got absolutely no idea how ths happened. ;) I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for all the lovely comments. And HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

**Part I: Waking Up**

  
It took the Unspeakables about seven months to rescue Sirius Black from the Great Beyond the Veil, but it took Sirius _forever_ to finally wake up. He was aware and he could hear and feel anything, he just couldn’t. Wake. Up.

Just when he was giving up hope of ever taking a piss on his own again, a flash of energy burst through his centre, and Sirius wrenched his eyes open, gasped for a much needed breath and nearly bounced off the bed with the aftershock.

One of the two kids that usually attended his makeshift Infirmary on the Death Chamber was quick to perform the emergency procedures. “Please, calm down, Mr Black,” he said. “Everything is fine. You’ll be able to see your family soon.” Feeling as if he had just fought a hundred of Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius nodded weakly and fell into a much needed sleep.

Only this time, he woke up after taking a short nap.

Or, at least, he thought it was short, because he wasn’t sure that those two kids were resourceful enough to move him to St. Mungo’s – judging by the logo on the sheets – in just the couple of hours it took Sirius to rest his eyes.

A soft groan shifted Sirius attention to the so far unnoticed body cradled in a wing chair in the opposite side of the room. And his mind went blank with shock: it could almost be James, if not for the slenderness of that body. James used to be much more solid. Then, as if prompted by Sirius’s thoughts, a pair of green eyes opened leisurely to reveal an evergreen colouring. Lily’s.

Harry blinked in surprised, before his face stretched in a smile. “Sirius,” he breathed. It wasn’t long before Sirius found himself in Harry’s embrace. “It’s been so long. I thought—.” But he choked on his words and hugged Sirius again.

When he pulled back, Sirius gathered enough wits to ask, “Exactly how long it’s been?”

***

“So, I woke up because Molly Weasley whacked Bellatrix?”

“That’s what they think, yes, but they wouldn’t tell me anything else,” Harry said. “I’m sorry.”

Sirius’s mind still reeling from the things Harry had told him. “And it’s been a week since I woke up?” Harry nodded. “Then where the hell is Remus?” Harry blanched and Sirius instinctively knew what it meant. He closed his eyes briefly. “H—how?”

“Dolohov. Flitwick caught him afterwards and he’s going to be Kissed this Friday.”

Sirius nodded. “Good. Poor Moony.” There were so many memories threatening to take over him and Sirius laughed weakly at some of them. “Who’d have said that the Marauders would end up like this? That _I_ ’d be the last one? We used to be invincible.”

Harry flicked his tongue in sympathy. “Yeah. But his son will—.”

Sirius’s turned his head so fast that he got a crick on his neck. “Remus has—had a _son_?”

Harry flushed. “Yeah. He's name is Teddy. I’m his godfather,” he added, preening a bit.

But Sirius hadn’t got to that yet. “With _whom_?”

“Er, Tonks, actua—.”

“ _Tonks_? Wha—how—when exactly did this happen?”

Harry flushed brighter. “Er, roughly a year after you . . . .” he trailed off uncertainly and Sirius could only imagine the expression on his face. “Well, anyway, I don’t think they were, you know, when you were alive—er, before.”

Sirius felt some sort of dark satisfaction that Harry was embarrassed in Remus’s behalf. “Oh, they were . . . _you know_ ’ing all right. I can’t believe I believed them! You know that they told me Remus was _helping_ her fix a draft in the window? _There aren’t any windows on the second floor’s rooms_!”

Harry was stoic for a total of ten seconds, before he burst out laughing. “Yeah, well,” he said at last, “he made an honest woman out of her and they had a beautiful kid, so let go of it already.”

Sirius still wanted to brood, but he supposed Harry had a point. He smiled grudgingly. “At least, he was happy for a while.” Harry smiled sadly. “Well, enough of that. And tell me who else died later. Right now, I’m overjoyed Voldemort was one of them. Where have you been staying?”

“At your house, actually. But I’ll leave once you’re settled, so—.”

“Nonsense,” Sirius cut him off. “We’re family. You’re moving in with me,” he eyed Harry suspiciously, “unless there’s a girl I show know about?”

Harry laughed and waved him off. “No, nothing like that. But, well, I don’t live alone, you know.”

“You don’t think I’d toss Teddy out on—.”

Harry flushed bright red and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not Teddy. He’s living with Andromeda. It’s actually,” he stopped himself. “Look, Sirius, he doesn’t have anywhere else to go and, after all he did for me, I’m not going to leave him to fend for himself and I’d really appreciate it if you—.”

“Harry,” Sirius interrupted, amused, “who is it?”

Any amusement was promptly squashed by Harry’s next words, “Severus Snape.”

**Part II: Growing Up**

  
“Good morning, Sirius,” Harry declared happily. Sirius didn’t get why: Harry looked like hell, with deep bags under his eyes and a weary slump of shoulders. Then again, there was this aura of peacefulness around him, of a man – not a child anymore, and Sirius had missed the transition – who had done his job and was now free of it. Harry was tired, but he was free.

Not unlike Snape.

Snape sat at his usual place, prim as always, _Daily Prophet_ in front of his face and cup of tea in his hand. Suddenly, he put the paper aside and glared at Harry. “Why, Mr Potter,” he hissed, “is Kingsley giving an interview about my placement in the Wizangamot?”

Sirius choked on his tea, earning himself a withering glance from Snape, before Harry replied. “Er, I might have forgotten to mention that he asked—.”

“Lovely! Who died and made you my manager, may I ask? Better yet, why didn’t they found you one, too?” Snape’s tone was heavy with sarcasm, but Sirius knew that, had this happened before the War, Snape would have brought hell down on Harry’s head for that little presumption.

Harry just laughed and engaged Snape into conversation about Hogwarts’ rebuilt. And, not for the first time, Sirius wondered why he hadn’t tossed Severus out of his home when he was given a clean bill of health.

He knew the answer of course: he was as curious as a damned cat and ol’ Snivellus was revealing himself to be quite the riddle. No pun intended.

***

“You sure you’ll be alright?” Harry asked again.

Sirius found himself exchanging exasperated glances with Snape, which did nothing to ease his annoyance. “Yes, Harry!”

“Ron and I can just stay home, you know?”

“Mr Potter!” Snape snapped. “Despite your childish belief, we are not geriatric! So, run along with Mr Weasley and leave us middle-aged man to find ourselves some amusement. We might even try poker and cigars. Does that meet your approval?”

Sirius grinned despite himself. Harry rolled his eyes. “All right, all right, I’m going. See you later.”

“Why, Harry, it’s only polite to spend the night after—.”

“Sirius!” Harry protested, flushing bright red. Then, he sighed. “Just don’t kill each other, please?”

Oddly enough, Sirius hadn’t felt the urge. No purring of hatred in his chest, no disgust looking at Snape’s face, not even resentment over their schoolboy enmity. What did it matter, anyway? Remus, James and Lily were dead. Just like Fred, Tonks and that kid that worshipped Harry.

But _they_ were alive. They had won; and Snape could actually cook a decent meal and tended to nap in Sirius’s favourite chaise-long if left in the parlour by himself for too long, and muttered to himself after reading the Prophet or a book which author he consider particularly dim-witted, in which case, he took absent-minded notes in the margins saying precisely that.

Those were things that Sirius remembered from their schooldays, but they weren’t ridiculous, anymore. Now, it just seemed like Snape had no one to talk to. Sirius remembered muttering to himself sometimes in Azkaban and, much worse, that last year when he found himself alone in this mausoleum. Except that it wasn’t anymore, thanks to Snape’s insane muttering.

That, and Harry and Snape’s incessant cleaning habits, the pair of neat-freaks.

And, after a while, Snape had even started complaining to Harry about the Prophet, instead of to himself – just like he used to with Lily – and it was only natural that Sirius, who had been far to silent for how long it took him to have his epiphany, started joining in, as well.

Harry was waiting for a reply, but Snape beat Sirius to it. “I’ve got no desire to change my address to Azkaban on Black’s account,” he said, looking over the rim of his book.

Sirius scowled. “Likewise.”

Unfortunately, the lack of loathing towards Snape only made it harder to deal with him.

Harry sighed, but finally, fucking _finally_ , threw some Floo powder into the fireplace and left.

Snape seemed to echo Sirius’s thoughts and slumped wearily in his chair. “That boy needs to get a girlfriend.”

It was one of the few times Severus talked to Sirius in Harry’s absence, and Sirius almost snapped at him for how unnerving it was. “I say!” he said instead. Then something occurred to him. “Although, do you s’ppose he’s really all that interested in birds?”

Snape froze. “You think—.” He paused thoughtfully. “Well, he’s awfully chummy with the youngest Weasley, but that doesn’t mean,” he waved a hand randomly, “you know.”

“What about Hermione? I haven’t heard either of them talk about her recently . . . .”

“You might actually be right, Black. I seem to recall Harry saying something about her parents, but there’s a distinct lack of pinning on Weasley’s part. And he and Harry have been living on each other’s pockets for weeks.”

Sirius took only a moment to make a decision. He leaned forward conspiratorially and motioned Snape to do the same. “You know, we could give them a hand . . . .”

**Part III: Teaming Up**

  
It started innocuously enough.

Sirius and Snape talked Harry into a picnic on a Saturday, just the three of them. Harry looked delighted. Then, Snape said casually, since Sirius was a terrible liar, anyway, “You could bring Mr Weasley and Miss Granger, of course. Or any other friends. Wouldn’t want you to be bored.”

“Wow, that’s sounds brilliant, really! Oh, but Hermione’s still in Australia, so . . . .”

Yes, they knew that; in fact, Sirius had made damn sure of it earlier that day. They exchanged smug glances. It was really the perfect plan.

Except that Harry brought along exactly seven Weasleys, a Delacour-Weasley, a Tonks and a Lupin.

“Nice one, Snape,” Sirius muttered when everyone scattered through the park in mid-afternoon to nap or play Quidditch, leaving the two of them alone. “Very nice one. Somehow, I don’t think throwing bludgers at each other will make them realise they are madly in love.”

“Oh, really?” Snape asked tetchily. “Let’s see what you come up with, then, Black!”

Sirius smirked, picked himself a couple of strawberries, then handed one to Snape as an afterthought. He saw Snape glare, but then had to close his eyes when Snape started to read Dickens aloud. Overall, it was a well-spent day.

***

“You see, Snape, your problem was that you were thinking about how to woo a girl. Only Harry wants to woo a boy,” Sirius finished triumphantly. Snape rolled his eyes. “Boys’ love happens downstairs,” he told Snape with a grin.

Snape looked disgusted. “I think that’s only _your_ love, Black.”

Sirius gave him a look. “Really? So you’re saying you’ve never felt little-Snape stir when you looked at a girl you fancied?” Snape flushed and was quick to busy himself searching for the fluffiest towels. But Sirius wasn’t just going to drop it, not now that he sensed something. “Well?”

“Mind your business, Black,” Snape snapped, taking the towels and waltzing down the hallway.

Sirius stared. Was Snape swinging his hips on purpose? He shook himself off and ran after him, managing to stop Snape just outside the second floor’s bathroom. “What’s with you?”

Snape sneered. “Let’s just say I’ve never fancied a girl.”

Sirius watched him enter the bathroom, feeling a bit bemused. For the first time ever, he had to admit he had _no_ idea what he was doing, _why_ he was doing it and what the hell he was aiming at. After a moment, he followed Snape inside.

The bathroom was bathed in a soft orange glow provided by the scented-candles he and Snape had lit up earlier. The bathtub was filled with water and bubbles, but Sirius doubted it would matter once Harry and Ron were under the communal shower this bathroom had, together. Sirius remembered being eighteen. And the low light would dispel any shyness.

Sirius said, “A boy, then?”

Snape put the red towels in the hamper. “Yes, that would be more accurate in the previous question.”

“So, have you?”

“Have I what?” Snape asked blankly.

Sirius crossed his arms over his chest and gave Snape a look. “Felt it stir when you looked at a boy you fancied. Or did you just wanted to hold hands?”

“All right,” Snape seemed unsure, “I suppose you have a point.”

Sirius found himself taking a step closer. “Who did you fancy? Was it my brother? You two were really good pals back at Hogwarts.” He briefly questioned himself about when exactly he had lost the purpose of this conversation. And since when did he care about who Snape fancied.

Snape’s face hardened. “Is that what this is about? Finding dirt on your dead brother?”

“What? No! I was just wondering the type of person you’d fancy, that’s all. I remember you carried a torch for Lily for a while.”

“Yeah, before puberty.”

Sirius smiled despite himself. “I never cared much for redheads.”

Snape’s lips twitched upwards. “Really? I seem to recall this girl—.”

“I liked boys, too,” Sirius protested and it seemed to shock Snape speechless. They stared at each other in frozen silence for a moment. Sirius wondered when the hell he had got so close.

“ _Oh_!”

They were both startled out of their reverie and turned to see Harry and Ron standing in the doorway, geared for Quidditch, with the muddy, flushed look of someone who had been playing for hours. Of course, they would come home for a hot shower and attempt not to dirty the house too much. That was what Sirius and Snape had been counting on, thus the setting.

Except that Harry didn’t look filled with anticipation. Or mildly interested, either. He looked mischievously _smug_. But he did reach up around Ron’s shoulders to cover his friend’s eyes. “I’m sorry. We should’ve knocked, but the door was open . . . .” He trailed off, blushing bright red. “Please, carry on. Don’t mind us. Have fun!” He grinned, winked at Sirius and pulled Ron along.

Snape was flushed with embarrassment, but sighed wearily, “And another one bites the dust.”

“What?”

“Nevermind.”

**Part IV: Heating Up**

  
Ron popped open a fizzy drink and handed it to Harry. “What the hell is wrong with those two? First, the picnic, then practically forcing us into playing Quidditch all afternoon and, now, this?”

Harry took a sip, then smiled. “I think they’re trying to tell us something.”

Ron turned a bit green. “That they’re having old-people sex? Yuck!”

Harry punched him in the arm. “They’re happy. They bicker and read together and cook together . . . they’ve even taken to complain about the Ministry together. It’s endearing.”

“It’s disturbing, that’s what it is. By the way, have you told them you’re shagging Malfoy? They ought to understa—.”

“ _You’re shagging whom_?”

***

“He’s shagging _Malfoy_ , Snape! Draco sodding Malfoy!”

“I heard you, Black.”

Sirius threw his hands in the air and took a seat at the table. “I don’t understand what they see in each other. They hate each other.”

Just as he said it, though, he knew that it wasn’t true. He did understand. Too well.

“Maybe they’ve had their own epiphany?” Snape said casually.

“I don’t get you. Why don’t you—?” Something occurred to him, about the way Snape had said ‘their own epiphany’; he was implying that he’d had one, too, wasn’t he? Had it been the same as Sirius’s? “Anyway, now what do we do with this?” he asked, gesturing absently towards the candle-lit, rose-scented dinner table. “The oysters will get ruined of someone doesn’t eat them.”

Snape gave him a long look. Sirius stared right back.

After what seemed like an eternity, Snape nodded briskly and placed the napkin in his lap, before flicking his wand towards the Wireless in the corner, which began playing soft music. “Well, Black, come on. Take a seat. We wouldn’t want the _oysters_ to get ruined would we?

Sirius grinned and did as he was told. “Yes, Severus.”

***

“Merlin, that was good,” Sirius sighed, pushing his sweaty body off Severus’s, but only after a thorough post-coital snogging session.

Severus snickered. “Yes, for old-people sex,” he rasped, voice weary from the screaming he’d done earlier, and Sirius marvelled again at the notion that, when Severus Snape gave himself, he gave himself _completely_.

“I don’t hear any complaints,” Sirius pointed out, propping himself on his elbow to gaze down at Severus’s dishevelled figure, hand going to rest on the curve of Severus’s hip.

Severus stretched, graceful like a cat, and ran his hand idly over his naked stomach. “And you won’t, I expect, as long as I can get _this_ ,” his hand moved with snakelike speed to curl around Sirius’s limp cock, “any time I want.”

“Good. I’d hate to return to Hogwarts to fight like a couple of hellions.”

Severus stopped trying to coax Sirius into round two. “What?”

Sirius tried to smoother a grin, but he couldn’t. “Didn’t I tell you? McGonagall’s owl arrived a couple of days ago – at the same time yours did, actually – asking me to take the Transfiguration course. I said I would not mind a place in the dungeons.”

Severus had gone very still. “You wouldn’t?”

“I was thinking of actually demanding such a place myself.”

Severus harrumphed, but his eyes were gleaming madly. “So long as you don’t hog the covers. Or interrupt me when I’m reading aloud. Or spell my charmed windows to display the Quidditch pitch. Better yet, let’s move to the Seventh Floor. It’s closer to my DADA classroom, anyway.”

Sirius smiled into Severus’s neck. “Bossy.”

“You’ve got _no_ idea.”

Sirius wanted to say that he was pretty sure he had finally got the right one. But what he said instead was, “You know, if we had done this earlier, we wouldn’t have had the disposition to make assumptions about Harry’s love life . . . .”

~The End~


End file.
